The sport-art competitor will have more experience in getting into street altercations. That's a no brainer because a sport art competitor doesn't train for awareness or avoidance. Most situations can be avoided or at least diffused if you have a head on your shoulders, self control and have even a minimal amount of training or even exposure to matters of diplomacy. Some sport competitors have those qualities, but due to the competitive, adrenaline-driven attitudes that many sports foster, many do not.

You of course, Jubaji, have none of those qualities. That's not a jab at you asshole. Its a fact based on your own admissions.

In your tale concerning your rumble in the Denny's parking lot with the drunk guy, I believe the man produced a knife and THEN smacked you in the mouth. The truth about it is, and I've stated this before, that the guy did NOT want to use the knife for anything other than intimidation. Even if he had pulled it out after he smacked you, he clearly did not want to use it.

In your ridiculous story, the man with the knife got distracted due to watching his buddies kick the shit out of your boyfriend. It was at that point that you could have simply walked away or at least back into the bar. Instead, you saw that the man was distracted and just drunk enough for you to live out your caped crusader fantasy. So instead of running, you suplexed the drunk guy and at that very moment in your mind the belly to belly suplex instantly became "Kill Move Of Choice".

So if you really think about it, sport competitors DO in fact get into more violent situations because they are clueless, but they almost always get fucked up more often for their efforts. Tito Ortiz, Lee Murray, Vernon Forrest, Alex Gong .. those men were some of the top athletes in their sports at the time they found out how well sport training gets you prepared for the street. You have champions from MMA, boxing and muay thai on that list.

What's most important to acknowledge about that list is that if these men, who were champions at the top of sport competitive combat, could not defend or attack against a lesser trained assailant successfully, what chance do you or anyone sport competitor think you have?

Is jubaji suggesting that the Joe's are going to outperform the Pro's who couldn't get the job done?

In all fairness, its important to note one fact:

The Pro's that were killed, maimed or knocked out had NEVER trained for any kind of real violence. They had only trained to excel in their own respective sports in safe and secure environments.

Its only idiots like jubaji and others like him that seem to want to believe that one thing is the other.

This is how he can still ask simple-minded questions like the one quoted above because he must at all costs ignore facts and cling to the idea that wrestling, boxing, or kickboxing have some hidden components for which to make a sportsman instantly competent in SD during a mugging with skills he's NEVER before trained with.

I'm sorry. I should have warned you better, but Jubaji and his street lethal wrestling are just brutal!

This is actually the technique that Jubaji used against his attacker at the Denny's parking lot. The man had a knife, but it didn't matter. Hell .. YOU JUST SAW THE VIDEO!!! It speaks for itself! Jubaji had to wear a mask for this video because apparently the move is g-14 classified and he could get court martialed just for showing it! That's how much he wants you to protect your loved ones from pimp slaps and blades!

He doesn't write on this forum 100 times a day because HE likes it! Its for you ... all of us!

This man has never ever backed down from a fight ... not even against a Mongolian wrestler, who by the way, did not even know Mongolian Wrestling! He's been around the block, people. Trust him.

Now I've been told by Jubaji himself that drinking lots of sake and eating lots of chicken pot pies will help you attain the skill to execute the original shadow slam. I haven't ever eaten chicken pot pie, but after seeing his original shadow slam I'm definitely thinking about it!

Did you see the way the blood just exploded out of the practice dummy? I could tell it was really resisting too. Freakin' amazing. If that dummy had been holding a knife what good would it have done? The slam would have disarmed it with it sheer power.

At first I didn't understand how a practice dummy could bleed. I'm sure you all were wondering about that too. LOL. Well ... Jubaji tells me that if you look closely, that's not a wrestling mat they're on at all. Its Denny's pavement! And he explains that once you're in the concrete jungle known as Denny's, EVERYTHING becomes real! Hence, the blood from the practice dummy.

Shit ... I'll admit that I didn't know that. I can admit when someone teaches me something that I didn't know, and I for sure didn't know about that. Wow.

Thanks Jubaji.

PS I looked and I don't have any chicken pot pie right now, but I do believe we have tons of fresh Mod tail for you to chow down on! We all know how you love you some Mod tail!

My pleasure after all that you've shared.

Need a bib with that?
_________________http://soundcloud.com/lucas-vigor/sets/set-3/

Look, if you're okay with getting bitch-smacked in the mouth by another grown man then fine. It takes a special kind of sake-sipping punk to be able to walk away from that kind of humiliation and still feel like he won something.

The saddest part about all this is you've probably been smacked in front of your woman. And cried. Then when you got to the safety of your car, you went ape shit ... punching the steering wheel and talking about all the things you could have done to the guy if it weren't for that damn vow of non-violence you promised to the monk who taught you wrestling.
_________________http://soundcloud.com/lucas-vigor/sets/set-3/

I'd like to hear more stories about jubaji getting slapped in the mouth. I know the all end with him pulling out his ultimate suplex that is impervious to knives and guns, but still I'd like to hear more. None have been as good as that time he suplexed those ninjas.
_________________http://soundcloud.com/lucas-vigor/sets/set-3/

And of course its important that you reference what I and many others write as theory because its out of your depth. There are several topics on the Urban forum alone that are right underneath this one that you did not discuss because you could not discuss. You admit that you have done little outside of wrasslin, but still speak as if you have the ability to judge or even place related matter in context.

So now, you say that you're not asking me to teach you, but are asking me to rather "share" information with you two in an effort to prove to you that my years in the arts are somehow valid? Are you stupid????? That question has been answered. The real question is how deep does your stupidity run? I've told both of you before this ever came up that no one, not me or anyone else is going to prove anything on the internet, which is exactly why jubaji is still around. The internet isn't like real life where if you run your mouth too much someone is going to call your bluff.

So as I said before I am not teaching you ... because whether you two realize it or not you're begging me to teach you about the very things that I do. I've discussed the very methods that we use, from repeition of the cinco tero strikes to using siniwali to develop an instinctive flow. I've written about low line kuntao kicking drills as well as choking drills and locking drills that develop the smooth transition of flow during close quarter combat.

In my time posting here I've written quite a few things that you two idiots have missed because if it wasn't about wrasslin or tae-bo you two had nothing but doubt to grapple with. And now, because you wasted your time arguing with me about the myths about BJJ you missed a lot.

So either you go dig up what hasn't been erased, or keep begging for something that isn't going to happen.

Hehehe ... and once you get to that point where you two are pretending that you aren't begging, ask yourself why no one is asking you to teach them anything. I've asked what jubaji does and where, but those secrets are g-14 classified. Beyond that no one cares because nothing jubaji writes leads anyone to think that he ever knew anything anyway.

Still, I think its important to mention that I did reply to Clubber Lang. The post mentioned a few things that answered questions you two had. I even made the parts that pertained to you fool-proof bold so you could locate what was meant for you to read.

See if you can wrap your heads around that and put that into context. Maybe if you beg TTE he'll help you out. But beg nicely.

You know, I really must add my 2.567 cents here... When I first logged in here and started posting, I was dogged by Jubaji. For seemingly the first month, I couldn't say anything w/o having to deal with his negative comments. I went through the same steps as most people do when they first encounter him. I tried communicating with him and was perplexed by his reaction. I then tried butting heads with him, and had the success as everyone else. I accused him, as do all others, of being the one-line wonder and was angered by his one-line retort. I tried ignoring him, but his bullhorn happens to be louder than my muffle can hide.

Finally, over time I really began to appreciate his comments. I really felt a rat in a maze, trying to find the end. Every time the rat takes a wrong turn, Jubaji was there to zap me. Extremely frustrating at the time, but it prevented me from running down the wrong way, and I found the way out a lot sooner. He's not here to annoy people, rather in his own way he's ensuring that intelligent discussions take place and that people's claims are well organized, intellectually sound, and true.

CONCLUSION:

(Now I feel like I'm at an AA meeting) It's been several months since my last Jubaji critique and I feel through his "guidance" it's actually made me a better poster. My posts now (I hope) are clear, concise, understandable, and contribue to the discussion. Life is about looking at yourself, realizing and admitting you are wrong and adpating to make the necessary changes. Jubaji has a gift. If you cannot recognize the intellect behind what he is telling you then you seriously need to analyze how prideful and selfish your life has become. Humble yourself before the Jub Jub bird, and shun your frumious ways! (cross between Lewis Carroll and Gospel Preacher)

jubaji is hilarious and the best troll on here. He also seems to know a lot about wrestling. As for his identity Jubaji has already said he is the girl that sings that song milkshake. Now you better back off because as he/she says "My milkshake bring the boys to the yard, d*** right its better than yours" You can not argue with that.

So, in light of recent discussions I thought I'd offer a story (one of many) from my younger days when self-defense(?) considerations, and skills acquired from areas largely devalued by many here converged to help keep my ass in one piece.

Of course there will be those who will see this as nothing more than an opportunity to dig at me personally. They are welcome to do so.

There will be those who don't believe the story at all. I've tried not to write too dramatically for just such a purpose, but I can't make people believe what they don't want to. Plus, I had a lot of sake while writing!

There will be those who point out the many, many, many poor choices made in the story, and they are encouraged to do so. Rest assured, there is nothing the young man in the story did wrong that I have not recognized as fool-hardy by now. (or is there?)

Late Summer 1993, ‘round about midnight and I was 23. Heading home from a party with an old friend. He drove there, but had a few too many, so I grabbed the keys for the return trip. On the way back he suggested we make last call somewhere. At just about this time a dingy little bar came up around the bend. It was a typical ‘townies’ bar; small, dark, ill-kept, but we’d stopped there before a few times with no troubles.

As usual, there were a dozen or so hogs in the parking lot; nothing particularly noteworthy. So, we bellied up to the bar and had a couple of beers. It seems my friend was a bit more drunk than I had noticed before ‘cause the beers really seemed to be getting to him. Still, I was nursing my beer in what I thought was a responsible manner.

Almost inevitably, as it seems looking back on it now, some dude sidled up to us to ‘chat’. My friend had just gotten back from training in the Marine Reserves. He had trained on an anti-tank weapon called a ‘dragon’, so he and some others had gotten dragon tattoos. Well, I guess the tat looked too ‘new’ or something to the fella at the bar and he sort of started to give my buddy shit about it. He was testing, for sure. My friend was sort of oblivious at this point, but I brushed the guy off without making anything of it. All seemed well enough, but I felt it was a good time to go anyway. I hit the head for a last ‘deposit’ before leaving and when I came out of the bathroom I noticed that where there had been a moderately full bar there was now no one but the bartender. I didn’t need to ask him what was up.

Sure enough, when I got to the parking lot there was my friend squaring off on a group of 7 or 8 guys, most of whom were pretty large, rough-looking fellas. I was more exasperated than anything else, as this sort of thing had actually happened more than a few times before. Well, I could see where this was going, and it wasn’t anywhere good. So I stepped in to try and keep some distance between the shit and the fan.

I told my friend we had to get moving and started corralling him across the parking lot toward the street. This would take us away from where the car actually was, but it would avoid having to work through the group of dudes. I was willing to take the long way around, but my friend wasn’t ready to leave just yet. He wanted to have a few more words with them. My idea, as I recall it now many years later, was to focus on talking to my friend (making like I was really pissed at him) and keeping the focus off those guys as much as possible. Let them feel their part in the whole scene was over. It seemed to be working for the most part, but just as I thought we’d clear the ‘event horizon’ of the group, the biggest MF took a big step out and smacked me in the mouth. Unwise though it was, I had been trying to keep my focus off them to ‘sell’ my flawed little strategy. Well, I thought, that’s it then. I started toward him and he took maybe two or three steps back before producing what in my memory has become a pretty damn big knife. I was pretty pissed, but hadn’t completely lost control. I could see this was a level of crap I didn’t need. “Ok, you win.” I said. He actually seemed taken aback, so I repeated it and there were a few seconds of stare down before he said something like, “so, get the **** out of here” or something. I can’t remember most of what was said exactly. It was a pretty long time ago and the adrenaline was flowin’ and all that. Anyway, I was happy to do just that, wounded pride and all. So I took a good hold of my friend’s shoulder and started across the street to resume my original roundabout route to the car. We were almost all the way across the street when I noticed that a few of the group had half-heartedly followed us; doing the kind of “yeah, you better run” thing. I thought the scene was just about ready to wind down, but when one of those guys made one last comment, my buddy (he’s always had a sort of short temper) broke off and turned back toward them. At this, the group formed up again and all moved across the street toward us. It didn’t seem likely that there would be any simple way out of this now, but as I was thinking of how we should spread the group out and improve our chances, my friend just set off right at all of them. He put some space between us before I really reacted and they were all over him in a second. By the time I had closed the distance he was already covering up. I caught the first one I got to with a straight left right on the button and he went down. While this was happening, that big MF said something to one of the other guys who produced a blade and came right at me. I don’t suppose he was in any way skilled with the knife; he was slashing pretty wildly. But he was slashing pretty wildly at me. That’s enough. He sure seemed determined, as I recall.

Back in those days I was powerful fast on my feet, and we were right out in the middle of a road (a very sparsely traveled road at that time of night). Plenty of room. I moved off at angles and kept a good 4-5 feet between the two of us. No way in hell that dude was gonna get close enough. Good for me, but not so good for my friend, who was taking a serious beating by now. Other than this one guy, they were all focused on him, so he had a good 4-5 guys tearing into him. Now, my friend is a fearless MF, but not the greatest fighter that ever lived, so I was really worried about him. Nevertheless, I had to give my full attention to the guy trying to cut me open. For what seemed like the longest time, but was probably no more than one or two full minutes, this guy came charging after me trying to slash at me however unsuccessfully. Just out of the corner of my eye I occasionally saw my friend on his feet swinging at someone or trying to run off, but I knew he had to be getting a bad beating by now. The guy coming at me began to tire, and I remember taunting him, telling him how there was no way in hell he’d get close with that knife (I’m sure I called him a pussy or something as well). There was something from him like “stand still and fight you pussy” and something from me like “get rid of that knife and I’ll kick your ass like you won’t believe”. In retrospect it seems kind of unlikely, but he at least pretended to agree. He put the knife back in the sheath or whatever on the back of his belt and put his arms out to show how he was ‘unarmed’. Even at 23 I wasn’t that stupid, and told him to toss it away if he really wanted to fight. Of course, he wasn’t going for that and just repeated over and over something like, “look, I got nothin’ now, come and fight you pussy”. Of course I knew what he was up to, but was really worried about my friend at this point. I said, “Ok, asshole” (or something along those lines), and moved gingerly closer. When I was about in arm’s length, I stopped and moved a bit like I was set to shuffle out of range again. He started to make his ‘hey look, I’m unarmed’ gesture again, and I made my move.

He was moving his arms out and up as I moved in. We both knew what he was about, but he was too slow. Too slow for me at any rate (I was mighty quick in those days). He stepped back to his right and put his left hand out toward me as he reached back with his right for the knife. I was on him before his right hand had gotten past his middle, so I trapped his right arm in front of him, as well as his left arm to his side as I wrapped him up. He was all but done at this point. I used the momentum we both had in that direction to step around to his right, wound him up, and launched him in a kind of modified belly to belly suplex type throw. The first part of his body to reconnect with the earth was his head, and he was out cold and painting the pavement. He was a wet rag as I kept him turned to his stomach and took the knife off him. I held up the knife so it could be seen and yelled to the crowd now leisurely taking kicks at my friend who was balled up on the side of the road. I don’t remember what I said, but it was something along the lines that if they didn’t get off him, I’d open up their friend. I made like I was holding the knife to his throat, but it wasn’t really all that close (I remember being afraid I’d actually cut him). I suppose it was because they were done with him anyway, but they started moving off back across the street to the bar parking lot again. Bleeding-pretty-badly-from-the-head-boy was conscious and moaning by this point so I got him on his feet and walked him over until I felt I was close enough to my friend to get him up and moving before the group could get back across the street, at which point I pushed my would-be slasher sprawling out in the middle of the street and threw the knife as far as I could down the road.

By the time I got to my friend, he was struggling to his feet, so I was able to hustle him further off the road toward a condominium complex set off a nearby side road. At the first place I saw a light on, I got someone to open up and asked them to call the cops. Then my friend seemed to remember he had a friend who lived in that complex. The person we had bothered was able to help us figure out which unit he was in. When we got to his place, we banged on the door until he got up. At one look at my friend, he dashed back inside and came back with a handgun, eager to go to the bar and make bad choices. I convinced him to take care of my friend and let me handle the other stuff. I made back to the bar, taking another route out of the condo complex that gave me a better view of the parking lot before I got to it. As I neared, I saw that there were two police cars in the parking lot, but few other vehicles. When I got to the parking lot, I spoke to a police officer and told him our version of events. It seemed like they knew who these guys were and had had dealings with them before. He seemed uninterested in us beyond recommending I take my friend to the hospital to make sure he wasn’t hurt worse than he looked. So I hopped in his car, picked him up at the other guy’s condo and took him to the nearest emergency room where he got a few stitches and cautions about a possible concussion. Another cop met us there and asked a few questions, but that was all.

Last thing we really heard about it all was that some mutual friends happened to find out who these guys were and that the one biggest guy came to a bad scene owing to some unrelated issues he had.
_________________http://soundcloud.com/lucas-vigor/sets/set-3/